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<title>Loving You is the Scariest thing I Do by Mony (Mony_Writes)</title>
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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/25727881">Loving You is the Scariest thing I Do</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mony_Writes/pseuds/Mony'>Mony (Mony_Writes)</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Newsies - All Media Types, Newsies!: the Musical - Fierstein/Menken</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Canon Era, Drabble, Hurt/Comfort, M/M</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-08-05</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-08-05</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-05 11:54:36</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Not Rated</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>1,154</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/25727881</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mony_Writes/pseuds/Mony</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>When Race gets hurt, Spot makes it to Hattan in record time to see him. If only Albert would let him up.</p><p>----</p><p>Race has been avoiding Spot for a week when he gets injured, so naturally, Spot has to see him and make sure he's ok.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Albert DaSilva &amp; Racetrack Higgins, Racetrack Higgins &amp; Jack Kelly, Spot Conlon/Racetrack Higgins</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>4</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>73</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Loving You is the Scariest thing I Do</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Come talk/prompt me over on my Tumblr @wide-eyed--wonderer !! And, as always comments/feedback are welcomed and appreciated!!</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“Where is he??” </p><p>“Well nice to see you too Spot, unfortunately, I don’t have the faintest clue as to who you’re talking about” </p><p>Spot growled at Albert who was sitting at the entrance for the Manhattan lodging as if he was waiting for Spot to show. </p><p>The bastard </p><p>“You bloody well know who I’m talking about Albert.” </p><p>“If you are talking about who I think you’re talking about then I’m not sure he wants to be seen,” Albert’s spat back.</p><p>“Look just cause Kelly’s corrupted the lot of ya doesn’t mean that-”</p><p>“Jack ain’t said nothing to us, actually. You know he loves Race more than anything, he wouldn’t do anything to jeopardize something that had made him happy.” Albert looked Spot up and down. “Race, however, came home last week and said some things to me. He ain’t even said something to Jack cause he doesn’t want to affect the union or nothing.” </p><p>Spot, however, had stopped listening after Albert had said had made him that happy.</p><p>Shit. <br/>Spot was in such deep, unrelenting shit.</p><p>“Al, please, let me see him.” Spot was usually above begging. Usually. But this was Race, he was Spot's only exception. For Race, Spot would beg.</p><p>There were a lot of things Spot would only do for Race. </p><p>“Albert, I know I fucked up. I should, well, there’s a lot I should have done and a whole lot more I should have said and not said. But I need to make this right.”</p><p> </p><p>Spot could feel Albert judging him, assessing how sincere he was. Spot wasn’t known for asking, more demanding really. But Spot knew that Race had told Albert. Albert knew how bad he had fucked up.</p><p>And he didn’t mean too, he was just so scared. Contrary to popular belief, the king of Brooklyn did, in fact, have feelings. And when Race had confronted him last week, he panicked. The last thing he wanted to do was loose Race. </p><p>But what hurt more than losing Race was Race thinking that Spot hated him, because Spot could never hate Race. He’d tried. He failed. He wouldn’t admit, even to himself, how important Race was to him. It was too dangerous.</p><p>Spot was scared.</p><p>“Fine,” Albert interrupted his spiral. “You can see him, but if he wants to kick you out, you leave, no questions asked, or damn the union and damn Hattan and Brooklyn relations or whatever Jack was harping on about at the last union meeting, I’ll soak ya, Jack'd do it too. Got it?</p><p>“Done,” Spot replied instantly. He was desperate to see Race, even if Race didn’t let him stay. </p><p>Albert led Spot to the bunk room, where Spot saw Race lying on a bed, with Jack bandaging his purple ribs.</p><p>Spot had come from Brooklyn as soon as Hotshot had told him. He barely heard past Race, injured, Hattan before he was sprinting out of Brooklyn and onto the bridge. Still, the trip had to have taken at 20 minutes, maybe more, and that wasn’t counting the time he spent downstairs with Albert convincing him to let Spot up. </p><p>Spot was gonna kill whoever did this. </p><p>But for now, he was frozen where he stood, watching Race whimper as Jack tightened the bandage around his ribs. </p><p>“Race” Spot whispered. Races head snapped up and his eyes met Spots for the first time in a week. </p><p>Spot couldn’t read what Race was thinking. It scared him. </p><p>“Came to kick me while I’m down Spottie?” Jack glanced between the two, and left his eyes on Spots, blazing with fury. Spot knew that for all Jack preached about Newsies of all burrows being there for each other, Jack’d go to war if Spot had hurt Race. </p><p>“Race  I - I couldn’t - I need to - you - fuck” Spot took a deep breath. He could feel Jack’s eyes pinning him to where he stood. “Sorry ain't enough and it never will be but it's all I got. Please Race, talk to me, let me explain”</p><p>It was probably the most emotion Spot had ever let anyone see from him (except Race) and now Jack and Albert had seen it. </p><p>“Jackie, Al, could you leave us alone for a minute.” Race’s eyes hadn’t left Spots. Spot felt more than saw the glare he got from Albert and Jack, but they listened to Race and gave the two of them the room. They were probably listening through the door, but Spot couldn’t bring himself to care. Race was giving him a chance.</p><p>Spot felt as though he might cry. </p><p>“Well, you got anything else to say? Or do you really hate me enough that you walked all the way down to Hattan to see who the lucky bastard was that got to beat me up” </p><p>“Walked? Fuck Race, the second Hotshot told me, I was out the door. I didn’t even hear how bad you were busted up. For all I knew, I sprinted down to Hattan because you got a papercut,” Spot dared to move closer to Race. He didn’t back away, which Spot took as a good enough sign to finally close the distance between the two, “and,” he continued, hands reaching to brush Race’s wet hair away from his eyes, “I could never hate you.”</p><p>Race closed his eyes and leaned into the sensation of Spot slowly stroking his hair.</p><p>“That’s not what you said last week,” Race had stopped fighting, but maybe he was just tired. Spot didn’t feel forgiven yet. </p><p>“I don’t. Hate you I mean. I wish I could hate you Race. It would really make my life easier” Race pulled away from Spot to look him in the eye. </p><p>“Sometimes, I wish I could hate you too, Spot. Especially this last week. But even when I thought you hated me, I couldn’t hate you.”</p><p>Spot did start crying then. Jack and Albert could probably hear through the door. Spot didn’t care. Race didn’t hate him. The world wasn’t about to end. </p><p>“Spottie, we need to talk about this though,” Race yawned, “I might not have hated you, but I definitely was mad at you, you really hurt me Spot.” </p><p>“Fuck, I know, I’m sorry Race. And you’re right, we do need to talk, but right now you need to sleep. You need to get better”</p><p>“Can you stay?” </p><p>“I’m sorry Race, I need to get back to my boys, we got too many new littlies for me to leave em alone for the night, not without notice. But I’ll be back as soon as I stop selling my papes tomorrow, and we’ll talk then ok? You’ll be here?”</p><p>“Course I will. Jack ain’t gonna let me outta bed like this,” he yawned again, “night Spottie” </p><p>“Night Race”</p><p>And that night, as he was crossing the bridge back into Brooklyn, he admitted for himself, for the first time, that he wanted Race. Forever and always.</p>
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